


Alive

by opaliteangel



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 22:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15180464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opaliteangel/pseuds/opaliteangel
Summary: Noctis was prepared to find Prompto in Zegnautus. He was not prepared for the random MT he killed to have Prompto's face.





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact I spent like 20 minutes trying to come up with a title and just gave up and googled "random adjective generator".
> 
> For this kinkmeme prompt:  
> https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?replyto=10403130  
> "Gen or Promptis, "Uh...Noct?"  
> Stumbling along Zegnautus (or some other dungeon of your choosing), Noct comes across what seems to be Prompto's corpse. Cue appropriate panic, with Noct dreadfully unaware of the fact the empire has thousands, if not millions, of Prompto clones to fuck with Noct's emotions.  
> It doesn't help much when the real Prompto finds Noct and (especially if prior to Zegnautus/Episode Prompto) is just as dismayed to see basically himself, dead in Noct's arms."

Of all the terrible things Noctis had been through, of all the terrible places he had been, Zegnautus Keep was possibly the worst. He was separated from his friends, defenseless except for a ring that felt like it was killing him every time he used it, and Ardyn was taunting him the whole way. He hoped Gladio and Ignis were having an easier time than he was. Capable as he was, even Gladio couldn't fend off an army of MTs without weapons.

They were worse than usual, here. Less logical. Not that MTs had ever been particularly rational, but these ones seemed almost as though they _wanted_ to die. It added to the unease already coursing through him. He hid in one of the gaps in the wall, trying to sneak past another. Fighting them was difficult without the armiger; it seemed much simpler to try to avoid combat, since he had no way of knowing how far the crystal was, or how long it would take him to get there.

The MT he was hiding from walked past him. Noctis waited, making sure he was out of range, and then warped further down the hallway. For a few seconds, he thought he was in the clear. Only as he stopped to look around the corner did he hear the rapid-fire slamming of boots on the floor behind him. There was no time to react beyond blocking the MT’s axe as it swung towards his face. He was pinned down. Ardyn’s voice rang out around him, but it was impossible to make out what he was saying as Noct struggled against the MT.

He knew he couldn't beat it in a fair fight; MTs were machines created for combat, and it was armed _and_ he was exhausted. Noctis strained to use the ring while still trying to keep it from killing him. The MT didn't seem to notice that it was slowly having the life sucked out of it. He couldn't tell whether that was because it was Magitek, or because the troopers in Zegnautus seemed to be completely deranged. The only sign that the ring was working at all was when the MT collapsed above him, knocking the air from his lungs and dropping its weapon next to his head.

Desperately trying to catch his breath, Noctis pushed the trooper off of him with a cacophony of metal hitting the ground. He sat upright against the wall. This place was taking a toll on him. Being unarmed and alone was making him feel helpless enough, but the idea that he couldn't even manage to successfully sneak past a defective soldier made him feel much worse. If Gladio had been there, Noct surely would have gotten an earful.

He moved his gaze down from the wall to the MT on the ground in front of him. At some point its mask had come off, and Noctis was shocked to see skin, rather than the machinery he had expected. Weren't they robots? Magitek? He shook his head. Maybe Ardyn was playing tricks on him again.

The closer he looked, the more sure he was that this was Ardyn's doing. Because the freckles, the nose, even the shape of its cheeks all looked like…

There was suddenly a lump in his throat.

Noctis tried to reason with himself, tried to list all the reasons that couldn't be Prompto. He leaned in and grabbed at the trooper's face, trying to find any sort of flaw or difference to reassure himself when Ardyn's voice suddenly echoing through the hallway made him jump.

_”Oh my...not as empty as you thought, hm?”_

He swung his head around, trying to find the camera Ardyn must have been watching him from. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the reason everything seemed so blurry was because of the tears in his eyes. “Damn it,” he muttered, frustrated with himself for showing weakness. Surely Ardyn found nothing more amusing than seeing him cry.

_”Such a shame...he was certain that you would come rescue him, despite your_ previous _attempt on his life._

The image of that felt like a punch in the gut. Whether or not Ardyn was telling the truth, it was easy to imagine Prompto trapped in a place like this, fearless as ever, certain that Noctis would never abandon him in spite of what had happened on the train. With a sob, he looked down at the MT--at Prompto--again. Had Ardyn's illusion held up this well before? Everything seemed much more real this time, despite how much he wanted to pretend it wasn't. No matter how many times he ran his hands over the cold face in front of him, it remained unchanged.

Suddenly every goal he had been trying to reach seemed foolish. How could he think he would save Eos when he couldn't rescue his best friend? Prompto had been so excited to come with them to Altissia. None of them had known what would happen, but Noctis felt guilty for letting Prompto join the crownsguard at all; why let someone as kind-hearted as him risk his life? It had been selfish--he had just liked the idea of being able to spend more time with his friend. And look how that had turned out.

He wonders if he would've noticed that it was Prompto, if he had been able to use his weapons. If he hadn't knocked the mask off, or if he hadn't noticed the face. It would have been easy for him to just kill and move on, like it was just another MT. Would Ardyn have told him to look? He knows dwelling on it isn't helping. He knows needs to get up. Knows he needs to keep going, because the world hasn't ended just because he killed Prompto. But _gods_ , he wants nothing more than to sit there for a bit longer and wallow in his own misery. Prompto deserved better than this--than all of this, every single miserable bit of their ill-fated road trip.

A few minutes later, as he sits against the wall with his head in his hands, there's a noise to his right. It's hard to tell what it is, if it's Ardyn, or an MT, or some other awful thing sent to torment him. He doesn't focus much on it; he won't let it kill him, whatever it is, but he isn't going to go out of his way to listen to it, either. Only when something comes skidding around the corner does he bother looking up.

“Noct!”

He's very sure that this is Ardyn playing tricks on him again. Much more sure than he had been about the MT he had killed, despite the fact that the Prompto now standing in front of him looks even closer to the real thing. And acts closer to the real thing, because this one isn't trying to kill him. He's coming closer, looking concerned, seemingly unaware of his doppelganger laying dead on the floor. “Hey buddy,” new-Prompto says gently, making Noct want to cry even more, “you okay?”

It's impossible to speak. His throat feels less like he has a lump in it and more like it's closed off entirely. All he can do is gesture helplessly to the corpse. He's sure he looks pathetic, and that Ardyn is watching him somewhere and finding it hilarious. Prompto looks down at the MT, finally seeming to register its face. A brief look of distress crosses his own before it hardens into something indecipherable. Noctis is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Ardyn to realize that he knows it's fake, now. Prompto sits down next to him, face still unreadable.

“They all look like that.” Prompto isn't looking at him, is instead staring resolutely at his own face on the dead MT, looking thoughtful. Noctis blinks at him. “Have you seen their faces before?”

Noctis shakes his head, croaks out a “no” when he remembers Prompto isn't looking. He's sure that at some point in the past he's knocked a trooper's mask off before, but all he's seen before is a black miasma. He didn't think they _had_ faces behind the masks. “You're real,” Noctis says, half questioning. Giving Ardyn more ways to mock him, he's sure.

Finally, Prompto looks at him. He wears a surprisingly guilty expression, along with several bruises and a split lip. “Yeah dude, totally real.” There's a forced smile for a second, which Noctis is sure stretches the cut on his lip uncomfortably. He points at the corpse. “That guy’s real too. He's just not me.”

Noctis isn't sure if Prompto is cracking up, or if this is somehow still Ardyn's doing, or if he's actually been sitting in the backseat of the Regalia having an elaborate fever dream this entire time. There's no way for a random MT to just _coincidentally_ look identical to his missing best friend. Even Niflheim couldn't (and wouldn't, besides Ardyn) go as far as to do that intentionally just to upset him.

Prompto sighed through his nose. “They're clones, they're all…” his eyes are flicking around, looking at everything but Noctis “There’s--something with daemons, and then they shove them into those suits but. They all. _Start_. As clones.” It's a somewhat logical explanation, that Niflheim would be making a clone army to turn into a daemon-Magitek army, but it doesn't explain--

“Clones of _you_?” For as many times as Noctis has had to remind Prompto that he _is_ important, that he isn't just some useless nobody, he doesn't think there's any reason why anyone would make an army out of him. Maybe an army of Gladiolus clones would be understandable, but Prompto? And how would they even have gotten his DNA?

The guilt on Prompto's face hasn't gone away. Noctis is still curious, still has a million questions, but now he feels like an ass for pressing Prompto instead of just being glad to see him alive and (mostly) well. “Nevermind,” he says, reaching to hug Prompto “talk about it later.” Prompto slumps against him, mumbling something. Noctis doesn't comment when his shirt starts feeling wet.

**Author's Note:**

> (...and then they go find Ignis and Gladio and nothing bad happens, ever, at all. Right?)


End file.
